Odds and Ends
by blue mood blue
Summary: Life is made up of a number of little moments. These are the little moments of Kurt and Blaine's lives, together and sometimes apart, with all of the love, hilarity, and drama that they entail. Drabble series - prompts accepted.
1. Sewing

Sewing

The sounds of New York drifted up into the little apartment as the whir of a sewing machine continued its steady hum. It was a soft, domestic sound that softened the blaring horns and constant chatter of the streets below, and Blaine Anderson would surely have appreciated its presence in the tiny space if it hadn't been ongoing for the past several hours. He'd flown right by "annoyed" and "concerned" into the "pre-full-on-panic" mode, pacing outside of the bedroom door with a steaming cup of hot chocolate in his hand that was going to go from warm to ice-cold if he didn't make up his mind soon. On one hand, it really was his duty as a good, loving boyfriend to intervene in these situations. On the other hand, Kurt Hummel was a terrifying force to behold when he was pumped up on several cups of coffee and had a battle plan in mind. The last attempt Blaine made at communication had ended in a handful of needles being thrown at his face. …which he was sure Kurt was very sorry for and would apologize over later, but still. _Needles_.

He took a deep breath. "You are a man, Blaine. You can do this." He squared his shoulders and reached for the doorknob. "_Courage_."

The scene wasn't much different than when he'd made a hasty retreat – he was _not _going to call it running away – except for the addition of a few more garments draped over various pieces of furniture that could no longer be seen. In the middle of it all sat Kurt, hunched over a sewing machine with some elaborate creation, looking tired and worn and decidedly zombie-like. Blaine knew better than to startle him while he was in such a state, so he cleared his throat. When that failed to get a reaction, he made an attempt at conversation.

"Hey, Kurt?"

The whirring of the machine was the only reply.

"I don't think you're going to finish those tonight."

There was a little sound of rustling fabric as Kurt lined another piece of the costume up.

"You can tell Rachel no sometimes, you know? I know it's really important that she got this role, but that doesn't mean she can volunteer you for sewing duty when they're running behind. She's kind of using you as slave labor here, Kurt."

Kurt gave a small, muttered curse as he accidentally pricked himself with a needle.

"I made you hot chocolate. I know you'd prefer coffee, but I think you've had enough. And also we're completely out of coffee."

When the whirring continued to be his only answer, Blaine sighed and gave up, setting the hot chocolate on a corner of the table where Kurt would see it but where there appeared to be a minimum risk of it tipping over and unleashing a bout of rage that could potentially take out the entire city street. He threw himself down on the couch in the living room, resigning himself to a night spent sleeping there, seeing as how the bedroom didn't look like it could be salvaged anytime soon.

Blaine was just about to fall asleep when he heard a muffled, but still loud, curse coming from the bedroom, followed by a loud thump and a few more curses. When he reached the bedroom to investigate, he was met in the doorway by Kurt, who was clutching his hand.

"Kurt? What happened?" He reached down to take his boyfriend's hand, but Kurt snatched it away.

"Nothing! Nothing, I'm fine, I just slipped a tiny bit when I was cutting some fabric, no big deal, it barely scratched me, I'm totally fine." He slipped around Blaine into their tiny kitchen, his boyfriend close behind. Blaine stopped him before he could get to the kitchen sink.

"You have to show me, Kurt. I need to help you clean it."

Kurt seemed reluctant. "It's really no big deal, it's going to be fine. I'll take care of it." Blaine just gave him a tiny glare and pried the injured hand free, looking down to see what he was dealing with.

What he saw was blood, quite a lot of it, and _oh_, it was _still gushing out of Kurt's hand, now wasn't that just marvelous?_ Feeling very dizzy all of a sudden, Blaine gripped the edge of the counter hard. Kurt grabbed his other arm tightly.

"Oh no, you cannot pass out on me, Blaine Anderson! If you pass out then I'm going to pass out too!" Kurt sounded hysterical, and Blaine knew that Kurt wasn't any better with blood than he was, so he took a few very deep breaths and tried to steady himself, finally getting them both to the kitchen sink. He turned the water on and put Kurt's hand under it, instructing him to stay right there while he went to find the first-aid kit. One very unsteady jog to the bathroom later and he returned with the white metal box.

"Okay, let me see your hand again." When Kurt showed him the damage, Blaine realized that all of the blood had been coming from a relatively small, rather shallow cut on the palm of Kurt's hand, and he felt a little silly for reacting so strongly, but at least this meant no emergency room visit, right? He dabbed on some antiseptic and wrapped practically the whole hand in gauze (so maybe he was still overreacting a little, but he _liked _Kurt's hands and he wanted them safe and whole along with the rest of his boyfriend), heaving a deep sigh of relief when the whole ordeal was over and it seemed like the crises was averted. "That could have been worse, I guess."

Kurt looked a little sheepish, trembling a little with the leftover stress and probably a severe need for some sleep. He hesitated for just a moment but then the words came tumbling out. "I'm really… I'm sorry about that, and the needles. You've been so patient and I've just devolved into some sort of cave-dwelling creature, and I've been horrible to you and you don't deserve that. I'm so sorry. I don't even remember what happened with the scissors; one minute I was cutting the fabric and the next there was blood all over the place."

Blaine just wrapped up his shaking, exhausted boyfriend in a hug. "It's okay. You've been under a lot of stress lately. I know this is important to you, especially since it's such a good opportunity, but I just care about _you_. When is the last time you ate? Or took a nap?" Kurt shrugged. Blaine took Kurt's face into his hands and looked at him seriously. "You are a very strong person, Kurt Hummel, and I am very proud of all of your accomplishments, but I would be much happier if I knew you were healthy and happy and not at risk from stray scissors. It hurts to see you so frantic and know that there's not much I can do to help, so when there is something, like stopping you for things like meals and sleep, please let me do that, okay? I love you, and that means I will drag you kicking and screaming from a sewing machine, kiss you silly while you're shouting at me, and force food on you when you need me to. Even when you throw needles at me." Kurt smiled a little, and Blaine kissed him soundly and deeply in just the way they both needed right at that moment, holding the slender boy tight until his shaking melted away.

Blaine dragged Kurt off to the living room, and together they pushed the couch over to the wall and got out all of the blankets and cushions they had in the closet (and a few that they managed to find under the mess in the bedroom). They spread them all over the living room floor, and Blaine made a blanket fort out of sheets in a moment of wonderful and inspired immaturity. Surveying their handiwork, Kurt laughed. "I don't know if there's going to be room for both of us in there. It is a very tiny fort in a very tiny living room."

Blaine came up from behind him and held him close, smiling into the curve of his neck. "I guess that just gives me an excuse to hold you all night long."

* * *

A/N: I figured after tonight we could all use some fluff. Even if said fluff came with some bleeding and such. ...and would you look at that, it's technically morning already. My internal clock thanks me, I'm sure. Anyway, if you recognize this story from tumblr, it is because the lovely Keitorin Asthore kindly published it to her blog after I submitted it recently. Thank you, ma'am! She's awesome, you guys, go and give her all of your love. Also, I'm hoping to expand this into a drabble collection, so if anyone has any prompts or such, you can find me on tumblr by the same name - just add dashes between the words. Thanks for reading!

(Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and FOX. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and not profit.)


	2. Stomachache

Stomachache

Kurt and Blaine were effectively waging psychological warfare on each other with cheesecake.

It was Blaine's, technically, since it was bought for him by some friends for his birthday, as he had taken to reminding his boyfriend periodically when the other boy eyed it every time he opened the door to the fridge. Yes, but it had been sitting in the fridge now for who even remembered how long and Blaine didn't even _like_ cheesecake, Kurt argued. It had become something of an inside joke, because as much as they bickered over it neither was actually going to eat any unless the other did first. It was brought up just enough to keep them from forgetting, but it wasn't a big deal.

Not until it was nearly Christmas, at least, when they couldn't agree on where to go and who to see without spending most of the holiday frantically driving between houses. The whole discussion had ended in a really dramatic blow-out that probably wasn't necessary and an evening of uncomfortable silence in which both boys proved their ability to be stubborn. Blaine had forgotten to say "goodbye" and "I love you" before leaving the next morning, which Kurt had taken very personally. In retaliation, Kurt canceled their lunch plans at the very last minute, meaning Blaine had to search the apartment in the middle of the day, looking for some semblance of a passable meal. That was how he found himself facing the forbidden cheesecake and considering what he should do about it.

_Kurt would be so mad if I ate that without him_, he thought. _It probably wouldn't help anything. In fact, this could be the most immature idea I've ever had. _Without giving the matter another thought, Blaine ate half of it, not letting himself think about the fact that he was _eating half of a cheesecake_, which he didn't really like, just to get back at his boyfriend. He barely spared the time to register how uncomfortably full he was before he was running out of the front door.

Kurt was predictably incensed when he saw the half-empty tray sitting on the counter not-very-much-later that afternoon. _He ate it without me_, he thought with an undignified shriek of annoyance, _and then he just left it out for me to see. He's doing this on purpose, that jerk. He'll probably eat the rest of it in front of me if I just leave it, and he won't even appreciate it. That's genuine New York cheesecake. It deserves to be appreciated. _He might have spent an entire five minutes deliberating. Adequate justification in mind, Kurt proceeded to finish it, leaving the tray out just to spite Blaine.

For maybe an hour or two, everything seemed okay, excluding the fact that Kurt and Blaine still weren't talking to each other. By the time Blaine got home, though, desperately seeking some kind of container that he wouldn't later be killed for using, he found Kurt already bent double over the toilet, the picture of devastation. It was kind of heartbreaking. "I'm sorry I ate your cheesecake," he mumbled when he could finally speak.

Blaine dropped heavily to sit on the floor beside him. He hadn't even seen the tray on the counter, but his boyfriend was sick and looked like a kicked puppy, and he just really wanted to fix that. "I'm sorry I psychologically forced you to eat the rest of it."

The other boy, looking just a little better, leaned his head back against the edge of the tub. "That doesn't even make any sense."

Blaine leaned back, too, turning his head slightly towards Kurt and catching sight of one bright-blue eye looking back at him. "This argument doesn't make sense. I mean, who actually argues about _Christmas_?"

Kurt smiled back at him. "Us?"

Blaine laughed. "Silently. And with _cheesecake._"

"Stop saying that word," Kurt moaned, "you're gonna make me puke. I hate puking."

His boyfriend leaned in close by Kurt's ear and whispered "_Cheesecake_," dodging the week slap aimed at his arm. In the end, Blaine was the next one scrambling for the toilet.

They spent most of the evening curled up in the bathroom, and when they finally felt like they could emerge - on shaky legs and clinging to each other tightly to keep from falling over, after they'd both scrubbed their mouths thoroughly - Kurt lit all of the pumpkin-scented candles from thanksgiving that he could find and Blaine turned up the Christmas music in the apartment just loud enough to annoy the neighbors, if they hadn't already left to visit family.

They curled up on the couch together, focused on not thinking about food or eating, and Kurt buried his face into Blaine's curls and mumbled something.

"What was that?"

Leaning back a little, Kurt repeated, "This is going to sound incredibly cheesy, _and ugh, I don't want to think about anything cheese-related ever again_, but I really don't care where we spend Christmas, as long as I'm with you."

Blaine grinned in a really big way, swooping in to give the slender, sweet boy next to him a little kiss. "You're right, that was cheesy. And I'm really glad to hear it, because I was thinking… Well, since it's our first Christmas together in New York in our wonderful apartment, what if we just spent it here? Not the whole holiday, but a few more days than we were planning to stay, just to ourselves. We could have snowball fights in the park and go ice-skating…"

Kurt shifted and looked at him closely. "Can we do that? Just… bail on everyone?"

The curly-haired boy shrugged, smiling at his boyfriend who looked just a little hopeful. "Well, we _were_ both just mysteriously sick at the same time. We wouldn't want to spread that. Besides, we'll see them all in time for the actual day." Smiling, Kurt leaned in for another kiss, this one much more languid, before nestling back into his boyfriend's side. Blaine looped an arm around his shoulder, taking that for a yes.

"You can't make me eat any dessert when we get there. Possibly ever."

"Deal."

* * *

A/N: Cheesecake is the king of all cheese-related desserts. Actually, I only know of one other cheese-related dessert that I've tried, and that involved grated chedder cheese in orange jello. Yep, that's a thing. Sounds delicious, right? (Bleh.)

Anyway, I felt like I should mention it here, since I hadn't before: these drabbles will not necessarily relate to each other, so if you see something that contradicts something else you've read, don't worry! You're not going crazy! (Also, there will probably be guest appearances from other characters, so keep that in mind if it sounds like something you might want to prompt ^_^)

Now, to answer my first reviewer, who is a lovely person and not even a little bit creepy (and thank you kindly for the compliment!): I'm not specifically planning anything particularly dark, but since I know how I am about angst and such, I won't say it'll never happen. Not to worry, though! If I ever include something of that nature, there will be a trigger warning at the top so you know before you read - and because the drabbles are mostly unrelated, you can skip right by any without a problem. (And if you think it's okay for you to read but aren't sure, just send me a message and I'll let you know why the warning is there. ^_^)

As for the AUs, should I ever get a prompt for something that's really out there (think knights, or animals, or so on...) or decide to write something like that, I'll probably create a new drabble series; the drabbles here should be mostly realistic, though they might defy canon every so often. I hope that answered all of your questions! ^_^

Thank you for reading!

(Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and FOX. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and not profit.)


	3. Fireworks

Fireworks

"Finn Hudson, lower the explosive this minute or I _swear_..."

"Chill dude, I totally know what I'm doing. Me and Puck do this all the time, you can ask my mom."

"Yeah, twinkle-toes, we got this!" There was the sound of something crashing. "Ow! Finn, your brother is insane!"

"Noah Puckerman, you do _not _call me by any of your insulting nicknames, especially when you are visiting _my _house!"

"It was a term of _endearment_, like… like fairy!" There was another crash. "OW! Finn, make your brother stop hitting me!"

"Dude, just stop calling him names…"

"But I thought he _liked _things that sparkle… _shit, you can put down the rake, I'll stop!_"

Blaine Anderson and Burt Hummel watched the chaos that was the Hudmel house's front yard from the safety of the kitchen window. Both held a mug of steaming hot chocolate. Blaine raised a skeptical eyebrow as his boyfriend chased the jock around the lawn while Finn took advantage of his stepbrother's distraction and started setting up. "Are you really sure it's safe for them to have fireworks? This seems like a really dangerous decision… like, with the potential to blow things up."

Burt sighed. "Carole seemed to think it would be alright as long as Finn was the one setting them off… Besides, I only gave them two. The rest can wait until after she gets back from that emergency at the hospital. What harm can two fireworks do?" Burt didn't sound very reassuring, but Blaine didn't question his reasoning.

This wasn't really how Blaine had been expecting the evening to go. When he'd been invited over for dinner after Kurt found out that Blaine's parents were going to some fancy New Years' party without him, the shorter boy had been a little bit excited at the prospect of some quality time with his boyfriend. Maybe more than just a little excited. He may or may not have been able to sleep the night before because it hadn't even occurred to him that he could invite himself over to his boyfriend's house, and what on earth was he going to _wear?_

It was right about now, when dinner was over, the table had been cleared, and it was dark and starting to snow outside, that Blaine had been banking on the prospect of cuddling on the couch with Kurt. They could have put in a movie or something, or even that football game that Burt had been meaning to watch… it didn't really matter. He just wanted to hold Kurt for a little while – in a way that was completely appropriate for the family setting and especially Burt Hummel – and enjoy the chance to be close without obligations or responsibilities looming over them.

Instead he was still watching his boyfriend through the window, who had now turned on Finn thanks to an ill-timed comment. He guessed that, as a good boyfriend, he should probably go out there and do what he could to help, but he was a little worried that things had gotten to the point where it didn't really matter who exactly Kurt was chasing with the rake, as long as the rake caused some serious damage as soon as it found a target. Kurt wasn't usually a violent person, but being outnumbered frequently by two boys who were much larger than him meant that he had to lay the smack down occasionally to maintain balance, or so he'd claimed. Blaine didn't want to deny Kurt the chance to assert dominance or whatever, but he did want some cuddles. Was that so much to ask?

"Hey kid… is that firework still lit?" Burt pointed to the overturned firework that Finn had been setting up, now lying at an awkward angle.

Blaine's eyes widened as he set down his mug on the counter. "That can't end well."

In the next instant, the firework exploded and all three boys were running for cover. Puck wasn't even in the line of fire, so as soon as he got to the porch he skidded to a halt. Kurt threw himself at the ground and covered his head, and Finn, whose legs had somehow gotten caught up in the dropped rake, joined him in an ungainly mess seconds later.

When shots of brightly-colored, fiery light finally stopped firing out of the cardboard tube, Burt and Blaine rushed out of the house. Nobody was hurt, but Kurt wasted no time in yelling at Finn and Puck because this was _exactly _what he was sure was going to happen, and they were _never _touching fireworks again. His tirade was cut short when he realized the top of his hair had been singed, and that had been another twenty minutes of reassurance that it looked fine, and could he please come out of the bathroom now?

By the time Carole got home from the hospital, Puck had been sent home, Burt had thrown out the rest of the fireworks with the promise that Finn would not buy any more ever or accept any from Puck, and Blaine and Kurt were curled up together on the couch with Blaine murmuring reassuring things about fashionable hats and experimental hair styling while Kurt occasionally sniffled. Carole caught Blaine smiling as he snuggled in closer and decided maybe right that moment wasn't the best time to ask why she thought she'd seen Noah Puckerman sneaking over the fence with a suspicious bag.

* * *

A/N: I swear that one of these days I will write a drabble that is not humorous. Assuming that you think I'm funny. YOU PROBABLY DON'T EVEN THINK I'M FUNNY. No but really, the next one will have angst, promise.

And as always, if you have a prompt, I'd love to hear it! Thanks for reading!

(Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and FOX. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and not profit.)


	4. Lost

Lost

It was Christmas Eve and Kurt Hummel was parked in a stranger's driveway, his head leaning against the steering wheel in clear dejection. He should have been at Blaine Anderson's choose an hour ago, but 249 Rosewood Avenue didn't appear to exist, or was at least exceptionally well-hidden. That wasn't a difficult task since the entire neighborhood was organized with all of the sense of a crack addict with a crayon.

There were at least three Rosewood Avenues in the neighborhood, all of them separate streets, but none of them had a 249. When he tried the GPS, it took him to a dark house on the edge of the neighborhood that looked like it had been abandoned for years, and definitely not the location of the Anderson Christmas party that he was supposed to be attending along with a few other Warblers and most of Blaine's family. At least, he hoped not. He hadn't known Blaine for an extremely long time, but he thought he'd definitively established the "not from a family of serial killers" aspect of the other boy's character.

He couldn't even get out of the neighborhood to consider going back home – Rosewood wasn't the only road that repeated, and by the time he pulled up in yet another darkened driveway, he couldn't have even said which direction to take to the highway. He'd considered calling his dad, but Burt was still on his heart medication and Kurt didn't want to stress him; it was late and there really wasn't anything his dad could do from all the way in Lima, anyway. He'd tried calling Blaine, but there hadn't been any answer; the thought that he was having too much fun at his party to notice Kurt's absence was depressing and he nibbled on a cookie from the tray he'd brought for the party. The only other number he had to try was Jeff's, and that one went straight to voicemail. He checked his phone – at least the battery hadn't died yet. He'd already turned off the car so he didn't run out of gas and strand himself even more effectively. He texted Blaine a brief message of "I'm lost" and settled in to wait, pulling up a map of the neighborhood to see if he could make any sense of it this time.

Ten minutes later his phone started ringing. His map (which was absolutely as confusing as trying to find his way out by driving) was quickly replaced by a familiar picture and name. "Hello?"

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, Kurt; my brother stole my phone and was going around showing everybody this cat video and he's taller than me so I had to take it while he was showing the video to my grandma and then she started yelling at me because she wanted to see the rest of the video. I am hiding from both of them in the bathroom right now… are you okay? Do you know at all where you are? Oh my god, that call was from over an hour ago, I'm so sorry."

"I'm fine, Blaine." Kurt let out an uneven sigh, hoping that Blaine wouldn't catch the slight tremor in his voice. He hadn't really been panicking, but being lost in a strange neighborhood in the middle of the night was not an ideal situation for anyone. "I'm, um, I'm in someone's driveway. I think the mailbox says 780 Thorpe but I'm not sure which Thorpe I'm on."

Blaine chuckled. "Yeah, this neighborhood is impossible. I should have gone over directions with you… I suck at being a friend, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, really. I'm just glad to hear from you. I really didn't know what I was going to do." Kurt sighed and leaned back against the seat. He was sure this would make a great story someday, but right at that moment he just wanted to be around people again.

"Okay, so… 780 Thorpe? Does it have a lot of lights?"

Kurt checked the house as though maybe some Christmas lights had suddenly decided to string themselves up on the house. "No, I don't think there are any down this street at all."

"Oh, you must on the other side of the neighborhood, then. A lot of older residents live down there, so they don't really bother. …I don't think I can give you directions to get you all the way over here without getting you even more lost, so I'll just come meet you, okay?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to make you leave your own party…"

Kurt heard the sound of a door creaking open. "It's fine, really. If I can just get through the front door without Cooper or grandma noticing…" Kurt could hear the murmur of voices in the background. Another door closed and he caught a muffled "_Yes!_"

"Do you think you should tell someone -" He didn't get to finish the thought because Blaine was suddenly making some kind of strangled, startled sound. Before he could ask, Blaine was talking to someone.

"Cooper! What were you doing in the bushes?"

The other voice was muffled, but Kurt could just make it out. "I saw you sneaking out and I knew I'd be blamed if anyone noticed you were gone." There were sounds of a brief struggle and an unfamiliar voice was on the phone. "Who is this? I'll bet you're calling from some pathetic public school party with all kinds of drugs and alcohol, but my little brother was raised better than that and you are not going to corrupt him."

Kurt had heard, briefly, about Blaine's older brother, and as harmless as Blaine claimed Cooper was Kurt really would have preferred the chance to make a better first impression. "Um, my name is Kurt Hummel. I was invited to -"

"Kurt Hummel?" The older boy sounded incredibly enthusiastic all of a sudden. "The one with the soulful eyes? The same Kurt Hummel that has a perfect complexion and a voice like an angel?"

There was more rustling and a shout of "_Coop, shut up!_" It was followed by a few hurried whispers before anyone spoke to Kurt again.

"Why didn't you tell me this was a rescue mission?" Cooper's voice was much louder and significantly more excited. "I'm auditioning for an action movie in two weeks, this is the perfect opportunity for me to practice! Stay right where you are, Kurt Hummel, Cooper Anderson is on his way!" Before Kurt could get another word in, Cooper hung up abruptly.

Kurt spent another ten minutes waiting before a familiar car pulled up next to him. Blaine got out of the driver's seat to meet him, but before Kurt could get to his friend another, older boy got out of the passenger seat and intercepted him.

"You must be Kurt Hummel," Cooper said, holding out a hand. "Cooper Anderson, rising Hollywood star." His grin was as broad as it was suggestive. "I've heard _so much_ about you. In great detail. Really, I think I've heard every single piece of information Blaine has ever -"

Blaine was suddenly pushing his way out from behind his brother. "Sorry about the stray. He heard 'rescue' and slipped into acting mode." He frowned, looking at Kurt closely as though to make sure for himself that his friend was present and okay. "Kurt, I'm so sorry about this - I should have warned you about how difficult it was to find the house."

"That's okay; you're here now." Kurt smiled and Blaine's mouth quirked up a little to join him.

The sweet moment was ruined by an interjection from Cooper. "This is an emotionally deep moment! You've just saved your love interest from certain demise - embrace him, Blaine!"

Blaine was blushing and stuttering for words, head swinging back and forth between his brother and Kurt. Sensing an opportunity, Kurt held out his arms. Blaine hesitated. "I could use a hug after tonight," Kurt admitted sheepishly.

That was all the explanation Blaine needed and soon he was holding Kurt close. Kurt sighed in relief - his friend really did give the best hugs, and he felt the stress of the evening drain out of him.

"Now kiss him!"

There was a foot between them before they'd realized they'd even stopped hugging. "I should, um," Blaine stuttered, and Kurt wondered if he was blushing under the cover of the darkness. "I should take him home before he gets too excited and hurts himself or something." Despite his discomfort, he was smiling. "Just follow me back and I'll make sure you don't get lost again."

"And when we get there, _then_ he'll kiss you!"

"Get in the car or I'm leaving without you, Cooper."

Cooper saluted Kurt as he opened the passenger side door. "It was so nice to finally meet you, Kurt. I'm sure I'll see you around the house more after you and my brother make things official." Blaine started the engine and Cooper scrambled to get inside.

As they drove, the neighborhood grew brighter with a gradual increase of Christmas lights, and Kurt wondered how many times Blaine Anderson would come to find him when he was lost someplace dark.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this took so long; I was uninspired. In other news, I love Cooper. Where did Cooper go? He should come back. So anyway, I guess this one is a bit AU in that Coop and Kurt obviously met earlier and Cooper was around more. Also, of course he contributed to them getting together. USING THE POWER OF INNUENDO.

Also, this is based on two personal experiences. Once when I got lost in a neighborhood that was basically a time warp and repeated streets and once when I was trying to get to a Christmas party and ended up lost in a field. My friends came to rescue me.

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS ARE PROMPTS. If you've got one, let me know! :D

(Disclaimer: Glee is owned by FOX and Ryan Murphy. This story is for entertainment purposes only and not for profit.)


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